


The Mystery of Love

by Evax3



Series: Winterfell High [6]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Day At The Beach, Established Relationship, Implied Sexual Content, Inspired by Call Me By Your Name, Living Together, M/M, book quotations, the mood when you've finished a book
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-09-27 11:23:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20406919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evax3/pseuds/Evax3
Summary: Sometimes finishing a good book was just like saying goodbye to an old friend. But somehow, Elio and Oliver sticked to him longer than others. The feeling they had left Robb with, forming in his stomach, crawling through his veins, and a thought, he could not shake off.How close you must be with someone, to call each by the other's name.





	The Mystery of Love

**Author's Note:**

> oh gods, I loved reading this book. Like Robb, I couldn't shake off the mood for days on end. This is kind of a way to get it out of my system.
> 
> Title is inspired by Mystery of Love by Sufjan Stevens, from the soundtrack of the film adaptation from 2017.

_Turn to me, even in jest, or as an afterthought, which would have meant everything to me when we were together, and, as you did back then, look me in the face, hold my gaze, and call me by your name._

Robb closed the book and closed his eyes.

Breathing in through his nose, he listened to the sounds of the waves crashing against the shore, birds flying over his head, singing their songs, the sun kissing his skin, even as it was almost set. A salty breeze blew around his nose, he lingered in this moment just for a second longer.

Sometimes finishing a good book was just like saying goodbye to an old friend. Maybe there will be a time for you to meet again, and yet. The feeling of emptiness could not be denied, that there was something you had to leave behind.

When he opened his eyes again, he looked for a dark spot at the horizon. Searching for it. His eyes flew over the dividing line of water. And there he was.

Making his way through it like a fish. Coming up, going down again. After the tenth time he’d thought Theon drowned, he had stopped rushing for his phone and dialling 911. Faith was what Robb needed.

So, he just sat there, watching him, as he broke through the waves, spinning in the air, like a duck to water.

The surfboard had been a birthday present. After Theon had stopped in front of it, every time they had been to the pier, Robb just had to buy it, and since then, he’d been like one possessed. Jumping at any chance on visiting the sea.

This Saturday, they’d driven all the way up to Salisbury, where the waves were higher and the conditions generally better, according to Theon.

He recognized him watching, as he made his way back to him. Board under his arm, dripping from head to toe, shaking his long black hair like a wet dog. Too bad, they left Grey Wind at home. The two would have made a lovely picture.

But Grey didn't like the ocean, had stared at it almost scandalized, when a big wave had completely swamped him and then barked towards the big wide open for about a whole hour.

Theon stretched out next to him, cold skin a nice contrast to Robb’s overheated body, and moaned with contentment.

“You should take a turn yourself,” he said, “before it gets dark. It’s amazing.”

But Robb shook his head. “Thanks, I’m good.”

He looked around, realizing, the were basically alone. It hadn’t been crowded the whole day, but now the beach was almost empty, missing the beautiful sunset.

“So, finished your book?” Theon asked, while he reached over him, grapping a towel out of their bag.

Robb nodded.

“And? Did you like it?”

He smiled. “Yeah, it was … beautiful, I think.”

Laying back down on his stomach, Theon fumbled for a cigarette. Robb wasn’t even annoyed by this habit anymore, it been just something belonging to Theon, like snarky comments or suggestive jokes.

“What is it about?” he asked, after taking a first drag.

Robb paused a second, looking for a word, a phrase, the right feeling.

But how could you describe something precisely, when your mind is just too full of it? Choosing only a few words, when you got more than thousand. Robb tried to listen to Elio’s voice in his head, the one that had been the same as his own for the last two weeks.

“Desire,” he said finally.

Theon raised his brows. “Desire? Like, in porn?”

“No, not like _porn_,” Robb laughed and lay back down as well. “It’s literature, poetry, that kind of thing.”

“Aha,” Theon smirked, “well then, convince me,” he held out the book, “read me some of your _poetry_.”

First hesitating, Robb grabbed it and flipped through the pages. Maybe something from the beginning. There’d been a line, Robb knew Theon might understand why he liked it. He cleared his throat and began to read.

_But it might have started way later than I think without my noticing anything at all. You see someone, but you don’t really see him, he’s in the wings. _

_Or you notice him, but nothing clicks, nothing catches, and before you’re even aware of a presence, or something troubling you, the six weeks that were offered you have almost passed and he’s either already gone or just about to leave, _

Theon rested his head on his stomach.

_and you’re basically scrambling to come to terms with something, which, unbeknownst to you, has been brewing for weeks under your very nose and bears all the symptoms of what you’re forced to call _want_. How couldn’t I have known you ask? _

Robb twirled a lock of dark hair through his fingers.

_I know desire when I see it – and yet, this time, it slipped by completely. I was going for the devious smile that would suddenly light up his face each time he’d read my mind, when all I really wanted was skin, just skin._

He looked up, watching a small smile appearing on Theon’s lips.

“So, you're the narrator, right?” he blinked.

“Well, I can relate to him, yeah.”

Suddenly Theon seemed kind of baffled. “Wait a second, _him_? So, this is _gay_ porn?”

“It’s not _porn_!” Robb told him again, more force in his voice than before, but also the laughter, “but yes, it’s about two men falling in love.”

Theon took the book out of his hands, examine the cover, stroking over the letters with his thumb. As if they'd give him just their very own little message, something only he could hear. Then he frowned. “But what’s the title got to do with it?”

Blushing slightly, Robb took the book back, to have his hands occupied.

“Well, it was their thing. Calling each by the other's name, when they were together.” He swallowed, his gaze flicking just briefly to Theon. “In an intimate way, you know?”

He got no answer, though. Just a smirk, and a gleam in his eyes, another way of telling Robb, what he was thinking about. Knowing exactly in what way. Turning around, they were face to face again.

And then he leaned forward, taking the book carefully from Robb’s grip, placing it aside and their lips together. Not rushed, not starving, more savouring. Tasting Robb’s tongue like a good wine. It was electrifying all the same.

“Come on, let’s get you home,” he whispered. His breath tickling against Robb’s skin and so he also lingered in _this_ moment some more, while Theon packed their things together.

And he still did, fifteen minutes later, sitting on the back of Theon’s bike, their thighs pressed tight against each other, surfboard on his back, the cold airstream puffing up their jackets. Robb looked to the side, as the sea slowly disappeared, replaced by houses and streets, cars and traffic.

Theon put his hand on Robb's at the last traffic light, just before their apartment. Their gloved fingers linking only just briefly. As if he felt the mood of his thoughts, the heaviness and melancholy, that still surrounded Robb like a cloud.

When they turned the key in the lock, Grey Wind already greeted them at the door, happily wagging his tail and jumping up at them, as tall as a man, his heavy paws pressed against Robb's chest.

“Hey buddy,” Robb said and ruffled his fur.

They put their things down, and took a walk through the park, ordered pizza, ate in bed. And yet, Robb couldn't get rid of the feeling, that had gripped him, since he'd turned the last page of the book. It wasn't bad, not sad or angry, almost light and heavy at the same time. Confusing, nevertheless.

“Where are you right now?” Theon wondered, a towel around his hip, the hair still wet from the shower, he had just taken, leaning against the frame of their bedroom door.

Robb smiled a soft smile. “Still thinking about the book.”

“Well, if it gets to you like that every time, you might want to switch to magazines.”

Theon lay down next to him on his stomach, propped himself up on an elbow and watched him.

“I just can't stop feeling sorry for them,” Robb sighed. “The longing they felt for each other, it was so real, so big, and yet it wasn't enough.”

“Why not?”

“I don't know,” he paused, “probably the time.”

Theon grinned slightly. “And now you're afraid, that with us, it will also be _the time_ sometime?”

Robb turned to the side, to get a better look at Theon, thinking about his words. “Maybe,” he said then.

And so, Theon's grin turned into a warm smile. “What was it, they found so attractive about each other? That it was new, that it was unknown? I'm sorry to disappoint you Robb, but it was never with us.”

“That's not what I mean.”

“No, wait, let me finish.” Theon moved closer to him, one hand now on Robb's chest. “It’s good though. Because that's exactly what makes us us.”

Robb raised a brow, slightly amused.

“Come on, I’ll show you. Take of your shirt.”

He was sceptical, but did Theon the favour, and what he wanted. Pulled the t-shirt over his head and then lay down next to him again. Theon nodded, and then closed his eyes.

One hand drove slowly across Robb's chest, his fingertip skimming over his skin, barely more than a breath, and finally stopped right under his Adam's apple.

“You have three moles, right here”, Theon touched each one without looking. “They’re all exactly in a row, have the same distance as drawn with a ruler.”

His hand wandered on, along his arm, paused a few inches under his shoulder. “The scar you have here is over ten years old. We climbed over the garden fence at the Tyrells and you got stuck on a branch. It bled terribly, so badly, that we didn't even get trouble.”

“Just like this one,” he stroked Robb's arm and then took his hand in his, led it to his mouth and kissed along the faded stripe, the one that stretched across Robb's palm.

Theon finally opened his eyes and looked at him. Moved, slowly and smoothly, until he finally lay on top of him, both arms beside his face.

“You've got a scar here,” he was driving his fingers through Robb's curls and stroked the spot on the back of his head, where he had to have stiches, “and here,” grazing his calf with his foot, “both football accidents.”

“I know your body like the back of my hand. And _that_ is so much better than any new and unknown I've ever had in my whole life.”

His black eyes stared at him, lifting the heaviness that had lain upon him, and replacing it with something else.

So, Robb grabbed him by his neck and pulled him down to himself, pressing his lips to his, not demanding but firm. Because what else could he say to those words? It was easier to show.

The way they touched was different to all the times before and yet Robb had rarely felt something so familiar. Theon’s panting in his ear, a sound that made him feel desired and cared at the same time.

The sweat that formed between their bodies, tightly embraced, every contact of their skin too hot and yet not enough.

Robb grazed his hand through silky black hair, still wet, feeling like water gliding through his fingers. As he grabbed it, gently pulled it and Theon moaned. His chest vibrated, Robb felt it, as close as they were pressed together.

And then Theon's lips came loose from his, formed into a little smile.

“I’m gonna fuck you, _Theon_,” he breathed, “like I never fucked you before.”

And so, he did.

Small noises, low groans, came out of Robb's mouth, shuddering by his words, arching his back, as he kissed a trail of fire down his body, every spot he’d described before, every place on his skin, telling a story of its own.

Robb was, like he was breaking, combust in the fire, that Theon had lit in his guts, as he moved faster, as he touched his core and his vision turned blank.

_Not a fire of passion, not a ravaging fire, but something paralyzing. Like the fire of a cluster bomb that suck up the oxygen around them and leave you panting because you've been kicked in the gut. And a vacuum has ripped up every living lung tissue and dried your mouth, and you hope nobody speaks, because you can't talk._

_And you pray no one asks you to move, because your heart is clogged and beats so fats it would sooner spit out shards of glass than let anything else flow through its narrowed chambers._

But then suddenly there was redemption.

Release, coming deep out of his body, exploding in a thousand colours. And pure bliss was flooding through Robb’s limbs, his stomach, his heart, beating still too fast and too loud, while Theon rested on his chest, coming down from his own high as well.

Robb took a deep breath, stroked his hair aside, much too tender, but it didn't matter, kissed Theon's forehead, still wet and sticky. His lips stayed there a second longer and then two more.

They remained as they were, when their eyes slowly became heavy, and sleep enveloped them like a cosy cloak, gently laid upon them. Dark and protective, the familiar sounds of the night in front of their window.

And the stars above them sparkling, the only ones knowing if this wonder ever ceases, but for the moment they were blessed.

They and the mystery of love.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! Kudos & comments are love, so please spread them. <3
> 
> And if you like, do hit me up on [tumblr](https://evax3.tumblr.com/) as evax3 :)


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